


without you i'll be miserable at best

by rektsaurus



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M, fluff???, hung up Michael, i wasnt thinking what i was doing when i was writing this, literally no one else except them, theyre cute best friends tho, very very dense Luke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 00:58:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3831265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rektsaurus/pseuds/rektsaurus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the one where Michael wishes Luke loves him but he knows it won't really happen so he settles to just being his best friend, the miserable kind.</p><p>Or maybe it's the one where Luke realizes that maybe Michael's not really his best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	without you i'll be miserable at best

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so this is my first time writing a fic on this website and it's also a one-shot, and im so sorry for how horrible it turned out like god i feel embarrassed but hopefully i'll be able to improve my writing soon with other fics, so hope you like it! This is kinda my warm up fic for this site, so it's not carefully thought out and mistakes are bound to be found here so im really sorry if you expected more from this

It’s two in the morning and Michael’s sprawled across the bed. He lies awake, staring at the ceiling and trying to decipher each dirty patch from one another. He has one earbud in, music cranked at the highest volume possible, blasting off a Blink song.

Michael really wishes he’s more productive of his time, (by productive it means playing video games) but he doesn’t bother. The glow-in-the-dark stars glued to the ceiling looks more interesting to him than bullets shooting out of a rifle as of now. 

He sits up and stares around the room. He sees two acoustic guitars hanging on the wall, an electric guitar below that, an amplifier beside it. A TV is sitting at the corner, with his PS3 sitting below. The other side of the room is where his closet sits and where the bathroom is installed.

He swipes at his night stand and fumbles for his phone. He unlocks it and the background enlightens his dark-adjusted eyes. He rubs them for a minute before looking back at his phone, and his background makes him almost drop the phone.

It is Luke smiling funnily at the camera, with Michael sitting beside him kissing Luke’s cheek. They are best friends, of course, and any public display of affection that concerns them both is justifiable because hey, they’re best friends.

But he knows better. The butterflies that slept in his stomach suddenly wake up and flutter around his digestive tract. That isn’t a sign of platonic best friend feelings for his best friend.

Michael sighs and taps on the screen. He sends a message one-handedly as he shrugs on a sweater and locks the device as he zipped up a jacket. Adjusting the volume to low, he puts on his Vans before striding to the window and climbing out of it.

The town is deserted, as it should be at two am. Michael shivers and pulls his jacket tighter as he continues walking down the road. The stars seem to twinkle just a bit brighter, and the houses he passes by conform into gray shapes of the same kind, before leaving his mind in a jiffy. He likes it this way, though, the way night seems to be at its darkest before giving way to the sun that lights and warms everything up.

Michael rubs his palms together and breathes hotly into them as he stares across the road. He wishes he brought a beanie, but hopefully, Luke brings one for him. He watches as a tall, dark figure escape from a window and lands on his two feet gracefully before walking over to where he’s standing.

“A bit chilly time you asked to hang out, isn’t it?” Luke says, smiling that adorable grin as he pulls his beanie tighter to his head. His cheeks are flushed and he shivers as he puts his hands in the pockets of his own jacket.

“You didn’t get me a beanie?” Michael pouts, looking up at Luke as they start to walk. “How dare you be so atrocious.”

“Ooh,” Luke pushes into Michael’s side, as if proving a point. “Atrocious. I fail to see how unaccommodating I am.”

Michael stares up from his feet. “Are you trying to be more articulate than me?”

Luke snorts. “Is that how you discern me?”

They trade words for the remainder of the time, each time giving the other boy a longer ephemeral to think of a fancier word than the other. Michael is leading the blonde boy to the park, the one where they first met and got angry at each other. He laughs as Luke tell a horrible joke, but even then, he can’t resist the fact that he’s staring longer at Luke’s smile and pays more attention to his laugh more eagerly now.

By the time they reach the park Michael’s getting kinda giddy and delirious. He really hates this feeling, though, because it’s the feeling you get when you first fall in love. You dive head first into the water, absolutely gratified as your hot head soaks into the coldness, then you get more used to it as your body grows accustomed to the chill, and once your feet come in the water, you realize you fucked up for ever wanting this and pull yourself out from the water. But no matter how fast you pull yourself up, you stay cold for a long period of time and shivering and thinking why’d you let the water do this to you.

That’s how falling in love is for Michael. You rush too fast, you want it too easily, then once you’re in it you regret the fuck out of it but you stay hurt for the longer half of the duration.

They sit down on the swings, which are too short for the both of them. The moon shines brightly, enough to illuminate the area just to show the outline of the trees and the slides and the monkey bars and everything else. The ground is frozen solid, and the dew from the grass tips off like a very small version of icicles from the turf. A slight breeze cruises through them, the cold air nipping at their necks. Luke shivers violently as he hugs himself desperately. Michael looks at him and feels a tiny seed of guilt plant itself in his stomach.

“Why’d you want to hang out at this time of the day?” Luke asks the smaller boy, rubbing his eyes drowsily. Michael snaps his attention to his words.

“Did I wake you or something?” he asks, scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah,” Luke yawns, stretching out his long torso and covering his mouth. Michael happens to see the slight sliver of skin from under Luke’s shirt and shakes his head hastily.

“How exactly did I wake you? I just sent you a message,” Luke shrugs.

“Well, you’re my best friend, so when it comes to you my ringtone’s the loudest.”

“Really?” Michael looks at him bewilderedly. 

“Yeah, in case you need me or something.”

Michael ignores the slight increase of his heartbeat and looks at his feet. “I clearly stated on the text that ‘if you’re awake can I hang out with you’.”

“That’s codeword for ‘Michael is bored as shit and needs something entertaining’.” Luke chuckles and Michael looks at him, really loving the deep voice coming from his pretty mouth.

“Well you’re right,” Michael muses and leans against the chains. He contemplates if he should confess.

The two boys stay quiet for a while. Michael starts listening to the beat of his own heart, and sometimes throws a look at Luke, before feeling it pound even faster. He also has the tendency to want to suddenly feel Luke’s hair through his hands, which causes him to look at Luke’s hair right now and sees it flatten with sleep and pillows. Luke seems deep in his thoughts and Michael takes the chance to stare at the boy longer.

Luke is actually quite thin for his frame. Michael can almost swear that he’s bulkier than Luke, with a few push ups and sits up there. He still looks astonishingly dashing though, without his lip ring and the lazy blue eyes and the small nose and pale lips. He really, really likes his blonde hair too, the way it looks so bleach blonde and perfect in a quiff and so cute when tousled. Michael wonders if he can get Luke to dye his hair, maybe black or something dark to contrast with his white-boy skin.

Michael doesn’t realize, but he sits there glancing at Luke and smiling. Luke takes notice and laughs at him, asking, “What are you looking at?”

“Huh?” Michael snaps out of his daze and seems to acknowledge Luke’s laugh towards him. 

“You were staring like a girl at me.”

“I was not!” Michael says, justifiably. Luke just laughs harder. “Fucker,” he mutters.

“But seriously,” Luke says, after his laughing dies down. “What did you call me here for?”

“Eh, nothing really,” Michael remarks, staring at the sky. “I guess I kinda sort of just miss you.”

“Aww, you’re being cute,” Luke exclaims, but doesn’t notice the way Michael turns red.

“Fuck you,” Michael grins.

“Well if you got nothing to say, I guess I’ll go,” Luke stands up and brushes the non-existent dust off of his butt. Michael stands up as well.

“I guess you should.”

Luke stares at him. “You sure?”

Michael nods. “Yeah, I’m sure. Sorry for bothering you at the middle of the night.”

Luke smiles and walks toward him. “It’s okay, really.” 

He grabs Michael in a hug the way a smaller person does, hugging him around his neck and actually tiptoes. Michael laughs at this childish habit before letting go first. “See you in the morning, blondie.”

Luke releases him and starts walking backwards. “Yeah, see you tomorrow, dyed.”

The corner of Michael’s lips curve upwards as Luke waves at him goodbye, and watches him walk and turn around the corner. Michael sits down on the swing, and sighs.

Really. How long is he going to take this route? He can’t walk around, expecting Luke to suddenly fall for him and be together, kiss and make love at the back of his car. He’s an idiot for even considering something remotely serious with someone as perfect as Luke, because frankly how can he rely upon the heavenly bodies to make them fall in love together? 

How can someone as straight as Luke with a girlfriend fall for someone like single, gay Michael here?

But the fact that the boy he’s in love with has a girlfriend doesn’t seem to make sense for his beating heart that flutters rhapsodically whenever he catches that tall frame with the blonde hair. It doesn’t stop turning his entire world upside down and makes his stomach go through a 480. It doesn’t stop his eyes from raining whenever Luke blabbers about his date and how she’s just so perfect, Michael and how I think I’m in love with her. It doesn’t stop Michael from loving Luke.

It doesn’t matter though. When they’re on the couch, from morning ‘til night, not showering at all and just playing video games, Michael will always wish he can touch Luke’s lips and kiss and make him so dazed and drunk and happy. He wishes that he can run his hands over Luke’s bare chest, count the freckles he has on his back, and kiss his neck whenever. He wishes he’s the one who lies with Luke in the night, kissing him and making love to him and falling asleep with their bare skins rubbing against each other. 

He wishes he’s the one who’s Luke in love with.

But that’s not going to happen. Michael is just wishing for something that will never exist. Because it’s just the thing for him. It’s just the thing for him and Luke.

It’s just never going to happen.

\---...---...---...---

The bass reverberates loudly, the floor’s vibrating, filled with sweaty bodies sliding against each other and drinks spilled all over. Every dark corner is barely illuminated through strobing lights; a rainbow of fuzzy feelings and meaningless sex. Michael’s head pushes everything out as he slides his pennies forward, receiving a shot in turn.

He drinks it with one go, burning his throat and fuzzes up his mind. He barely gets his thoughts form one coherent pattern before a shot is handed to him and he burns himself again, admiring the feeling of forgetting with flames and tries to douse everything else with fire. It hurts, Michael tries to say, but he leans forward and his head falls into his hand, and takes another shot down his throat.

He tries to see, but black dots appear in his vision and everything looks like it’s moving sideways so he shuts his eyes and settles himself down. His thoughts stumble back to visualize why he’s in this godforsaken bar and what he was doing before he was in here and oh God, everything comes falling back.

It’s been a year since Luke and his girlfriend had become together, so Ashton and Calum planned a surprise and dragged an unwilling Michael into it. They were both so fucking happy for Luke and his girlfriend (no Michael won’t ever speak of her name because fuck her) and planned out this beautiful dinner for the two of them and failed miserably to be a good background duet with their bass and drums. Luke laughed before hugging them all, exclaiming how he loved them all, before shooing away Ashton and Calum and Michael for his wonderful date with his wonderful girlfriend. But as Michael looked at them one last time, Luke sent him a dirty wink that said all the things that were going to happen between him and his girl after dinner.

And Michael went straight to this bar, tuning everything out, including his love for Luke, but failing miserably as well.

Thirteen bass-heavy songs and a dozen of shots that might as well have broken Michael’s sanity and normality later, he exits out of the bar, laughing. He stumbles into a dark alley, nothing shady really, and Michael continues laughing as the memory of his broken heart resumes playing in his head, over and over until he starts to well up.

“Luke,” Michael says, stumbling over the thought of someone so beautiful, so perfect, someone who’s so much like, like, “Luke.”

Luke is the only thing occupying every corner on Michael’s mind right now. It’s just so sad and fucked up and painful how Luke’s laugh is echoing around Michael, how his smiles and cheeky grins and intentional I love yous are the only thing keeping him think that he’s sane. Michael desperately wishes he could remove the soundtrack in his ears of Luke’s magical notes and how he says Michael and how he speaks of his girlfriend, even when sometimes Michael wants to punch him in the throat. 

Michael remembers the time he and Luke jumped into a seven-feet pool, where Luke clung to him the entire time, afraid of letting go and falling because he didn’t know how to swim. Michael held him tightly as he swam for the both of them, grinning and admiring how Luke looks from below, even when he’s scared. He remembers the spike in his heart as it painfully increased in beats when Luke kissed him on the cheek as a way of saying thank you for swimming with him and Michael’s suddenly crying and wanting to find Luke and hook himself onto him because he’s drowning in a darkness he can never fight his way out of.

Love.

How fucked up is love exactly? How fucked up is it to fall in love with someone you’re certain will never love you back? How fucked up is it to fall in love with Luke goddamn Hemmings, expecting he’ll love you in return? Because if anything can describe Michael right now, it’s fucked up. 

Michael keeps crying and before he knows it, he falls asleep onto his side, where his phone sits and unlocks, and accidentally calls Luke.

\---...---...---...---

A year later, Michael’s nowhere to be seen.

Luke’s up and calling everyone, hair all clumped from having hands run through it. His heart sinks down as he realizes no one has seen Michael recently, and he shuts down. His best friend is missing and no one has any idea where he is.

He stares back at the messy, unmade bed. He hasn’t been sleeping well in months ever since he broke up with Aleisha. Michael has been staying over for months too, holding Luke together as he breaks down and falls into pieces, heartbroken but grateful that someone’s there to hold him through everything.

Since Aleisha’s fucking a guy behind Luke’s back, Ashton and Calum have been cheering trying to find ways to get back Luke to dating phase. But that isn’t really what Luke’s after right now, especially since Michael’s pale skin suddenly makes him smile and his green eyes stay in his mind for longer than appropriate and maybe he might have been enjoying the boy’s embraces more than he should.

But Luke still has to find his best friend because he is missing. Not because there’s something, nope. He’s been calling everyone because Michael’s absence of physical presence has bothered him enough. Not because Michael’s absence of physical presence has soon become Michael’s mental presence lingering around his mind longer. Nope, not that really.

Luke sighs as he drops his phone after the sixty-fourth call. He falls with a thud on his bed, realizing after all those calls, the only person who Michael’s been hanging around with for a week is Luke himself. He runs a hand through his hair before standing back up, gathering a red flannel and black sweater into a bunch in his hand, and gets out of the house.

He gets into his car as he finishes putting on his clothes and shoves his key into the ignition. He picks up his phone as he starts the car, and dials Michael and putting it on loudspeaker. 

Luke waits as the dial tone rings, and it places him in voicemail, hearing Michael say fuck off and don’t bother me because God there are so much more things to be doing than wait around for me to answer you. He chuckles, dials him again anyways, and keeps driving and searches around the neighborhood.

After forty-seven voicemails, Luke starts thinking of where Michael can be. He can’t be anywhere away from this town, no, Luke knows Michael isn’t that reckless enough. Luke starts to fucking panic because where the fuck is that perfect boy and why the fuck isn’t he beside Luke and making him laugh and be loved because c’mon Michael, Luke needs you.

He gives up on dialling, but as soon as his fingers end the call, Michael starts calling him back. He stomps his foot down on brake really hard and doesn’t give a fuck if someone’s behind him and picks up the phone and answers and just about to scream when--

“Luke.”

Holy shit does Luke fall back into his seat, relieved and knees shaking because that breathless voice is fucking perfect and reassuring to hear and just, “Where the fuck have you been!?”

“Luke I--” Michael tries to answer, but Luke’s voice overrides him, laced with worry and pain.

“No, fuck you, Clifford. You leave my house with no note, no explanation, no nothing! If you’re gonna leave my house to bang some chick and expect me to be okay when you say that after being under my sight for two whole fucking days, well boo hoo, Michael, because I am not okay with you being lost! How dare you leave me with no sort of explanation, Michael? Do you have any idea how you have me worried sick!? Do you have any idea how much I got so worried and almost cried when no one saw you and the last time you got any human contact was, oh no, with me, but of course, I don’t know where the hell you are, so I don’t know if you’re still alive, and do you, Michael godfucking Gordon son of a bitch Clifford, expect me to be okay now that you had the idea to actually call!?”

Luke is met with a stunned silence, only hearing Michael’s breathing on the other line. He’s livid, red in the face because who the hell does Michael think he is--

“I-- I do,” Michael stutters. “I do expect you to be okay now that I had the idea to actually call.”

Luke says nothing as he grips his phone so hard he doesn’t know why it hasn’t broken yet. Then he bursts into tears.

Luke hears that Michael suddenly panics, because once Luke cries, Michael tries so hard he dies. He chokes over his tears and lets out a laugh as he remembers that, but carries on crying because Michael’s alive, okay, not harmed in any way and still knows how Luke functions and he is okay now that Michael called because Luke loves Michael and he doesn’t want to lie anymore. 

“Luke I’m sorry,” Michael starts to say but Luke shushes him.

“Where are you?” Luke whispers as he chokes on his tears again. “Tell me the truth Michael or I swear--”

“I’m,” Michael stops abruptly, not knowing what to say. “I’m home, Luke.”

“Your house?” Luke thinks of where else Michael calls his home. “Or are you at my house?”

“No,” Luke hears something coming, but he’s busy crying and can’t decipher what it is that he has heard. Then Michael appears beside Luke’s window and says something that completely crushes his heart and revives it again.

“I’m home, Luke.”

Luke exits the car so swiftly he almost breaks his door, but it doesn’t matter once he drops his phone onto the concrete and fucking crushes Michael and actually stops him from breathing as Luke embraces him.

“Fuck you Clifford,” Luke heaves. “Fuck you, fuck just fuck you Michael.”

“Luke,” Michael chuckles. “I’m okay.”

Luke stops hugging Michael and stares at him, seeing his green eyes amused and his lips puckered from smiling. “You know what? I don’t really care anymore.”

“Care about--” Michael speaks but he’s cut off as Luke cups his face and presses his lips to his.

“You,” Luke enunciates every word as he breaks the kiss each time, “Are. Not. Allowed. To. Do. This. Again.”

“Luke,” Michael starts laughing but Luke catches that stupid, potty mouth of his and realizes he doesn’t know what kissing is until he kissed Michael.

Michael wraps his arms around Luke and attacks him eagerly, wanting to do this for the longest time. He takes note of Luke’s spiked heartbeat, and listens to his own heartbeat, and smiles as they both feel warmth emanating from each other. 

Luke breaks off the kiss and gazes into Michael hard. “You. Michael, fuck it, you need to understand something.”

“I love you,” Michael says in a daze and gets Luke blushing. He finds this cute and grins. “I love you Luke, and I don’t think I know how to stop.”

“Don’t stop,” Luke laughs. “I love you too. I can’t believe this but I love you too. Please don’t leave me again.”

“I won’t,” Michael swears on his soul, on his heart. He won’t ever leave Luke again. He’ll die before doing that. “Without you Luke, I’ll be miserable at best.”


End file.
